


The Second Hand

by phnelt



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Reincarnation, Sort Of, both canon and non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phnelt/pseuds/phnelt
Summary: They keep having this argument...





	The Second Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Casylum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casylum/gifts).



> Me: ok, work is going to be crunching for the next few months, pick something nice to write for Wayback  
> Also me: *writes a story that makes me drag history monographs out of storage*

Xena kicked the last bandit off of her sword, didn’t watch to see where his corpse landed. Instead, she cast her eyes around the road frantically for Gabrielle. The bandits had caught them by surprise around a tricky bend and she’d lost track of Gabrielle into the fighting. She found her quickly.

Looking back, she saw Gabrielle straighten, her sais bloodied, none of it her own. She looked like she didn’t have a scratch on her, but Xena didn’t relax. This wasn’t the first time Gabrielle had been forced to kill and it wouldn’t be the last.

All of that blood and pain and death and sadness. Not much of an adventure for her write about.

Xena walked over with a rag, and started to wipe Gabrielle’s hands down, wanting to get the blood off. Then she threw over a second one and Gabrielle grabbed it one-handed, using practiced motions to wipe down her sais and assess them. Second nature. The ease of Gabrielle’s movements was somehow worse than shaking hands would have been.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away and Gabrielle noticed, slowing her hands. “Xena? What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“There was a lot of fighting today.” 

“Are we having this conversation again? We’ve gone over this a thousand times. We go out, get into a fight, sometimes you get worried about how much this life has changed me, sometimes I get worried about the same thing. But every time we stay together.” She gave Xena a little knock with her fist. “I’m not going anywhere. We agreed and I’m not backing out.” 

Gabrielle was acting like it was a done deal but Xena feels far from settled. She couldn’t even explain exactly why she felt so bothered right now, and Gabrielle was right -- they had been here before. Still.

Xena would like to think there’s a world out there where Gabrielle could be free, maintain some optimism and innocence. She can’t imagine ever not wanting that. And because of that, she doesn’t think they’ll ever be done having this argument, no matter how frustrated Gabrielle gets with her.

But she still wonders if it could be different.

_ \--Arabian Peninsula, 500 CE? -- _

They were sheltering in the shade of the dune where they’d been ever since the small Banu Muharib party had ridden into the oasis. It wasn’t much, a makeshift shield against the heat and sun. They would have to get back to the water at nightfall. A harsh way of life, making it without the protection of a tribe, but Xena had chosen it and Gabrielle had chosen to be with her. Gabrielle had been a renowned poet, recited across many tribes; some had said that the Banu Ja’dah had turned away from attack just from Gabrielle describing how pathetic their camels were, and Xena believed it. 

Which is why Xena felt the weight of being responsible that Gabrielle was now a vagabond poet, outside of her tribe, less safe.

“You could have been hurt.” Gabrielle could get more of what she deserved if they weren’t together. Acclaim, renown, Gabrielle didn’t need Xena for that. In fact, could do better with someone else.

“I could always get hurt. Life isn’t safe. No person, however safe in life, escapes the tomb.” Quoting her own poetry only served to reinforce the point: more people should get to hear it, without Gabrielle fearing for her own life. 

Maybe, somewhere else, Gabrielle wouldn’t need to think about death.

\--  _ Bali, 1000 CE -- _

“You shouldn’t even have to think about life and death that way. You didn’t think death was coming for you before I took you away.” Until Gabrielle had started talking about death, they had been enjoying their mangoes in the blissful period before the monsoon would start. The shade from the teak tree provided a break from the heat and the mangoes were ripe. By all rights, it should be a good moment but Gabrielle’s comments had reminded Xena that although they were relaxing, they were still under threat. 

“You mean when the gang of men angry came to destroy the temple of Durga with me still inside it?” Gabrielle had been so proud that day, proud to serve her queen, and her goddess, defiant against those who called her queen a witch. Xena had served Queen Mahendradatta, in earlier times, and Xena still had never wanted to devote herself to anyone as much as she wanted to devote herself to Gabrielle now. “And besides, I came with you, and you tried to send me home, remember?” 

“Then, I did. But there were so many other times, other chances when I could have let you go.” 

Gabrielle licked a line of mango juice up her wrist to the tip of her thumb. Xena couldn’t stop her eyes from following the motion. 

The pause gave her a moment to think. Xena  _ had  _ tried to send her home. It hadn’t worked. Now all she was doing was trying to keep Gabrielle safe. And she would keep trying, every way she could think of.

Xena wondered if they should leave the island. Bali wasn’t so large that they could avoid their enemies forever. Or Xena could send her away now, even. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of sending Gabrielle away to keep her safe. 

_ \-- Spain, 1400 CE -- _

The palanquin was rocking gently. Right now they were travelling in relative comfort, but how long would the money last? Her family was selling what they could to get Xena to hopeful safety in Tunis. But Xena did not believe that that would be far enough, that the rapaciousness of the Inquisition would not stop at the Mediterranean. She could have stayed, given up her traditions and community, bowed her head to the Pope, but in the end that was no choice at all. She could not stay and live a lie. But now she’d dragged Gabrielle with her. 

But when she told Gabrielle she could leave, Gabrielle startled.

“You want me to go?” For the first time since they’d left Granada, Gabrielle looked a little uncertain.

“No! That’s the problem.” Whether she’d responded to Gabrielle’s sadness or her own, she’d been unable to lie. She wanted Gabrielle’s face to be the last thing she saw every evening. She wanted to be able to see the way Gabrielle’s lips curled up in a self-satisfied smile whenever she made a joke. Xena wanted them to stay together, always, just as much a part of each other’s lives as they were key parts of each other’s souls.

“How is that a problem? We’re two people who both want to be together.” She kept doing this, refusing to let Xena explain how Xena was at fault here and now Gabrielle would continue to have to deal with bad circumstances and hardship. Gabrielle didn’t have to come. She served Xena’s family and it would have been easy enough for her to leave that service, go back to her priest and denounce Xena and all of her works. But she didn’t. Why did Gabrielle have to be so stubborn? 

“It’s my selfishness. To keep you.” 

“It’s not selfish to accept love.” Then why was Xena still worried?

\--  _ Haida Gwaii, 1700 CE -- _

“You could have died today.” The wave had swept up and over the land. Xena could  see where the tops of the spruce were barely peeking above the water. Those that were still standing— many were floating by, lines of green in a new sea. She’d heard stories of how the great Thunderbird could fight with the Whale and raise the water, but she never thought she’d see it. 

“But I didn’t.” They had been in the trees when Gabrielle noticed the water receding. Xena had been focused on looking for mushrooms, she would have missed it if Gabrielle hadn’t yelled for her attention. Xena felt like she was always focused, always looking to the task and Gabrielle was left looking around, watching their back. It shouldn’t always go that way, should it? 

Gabrielle should feel protected too.

A shiver went through Xena’s body when she thought about how close they came today. “It was close.” And for what? Some mushrooms? Gabrielle could be ldoing more than following after Xena all the time.

\-- _ South China Sea, 1810 CE -- _

“You could do more than you’re doing with me.” Above everything, Xena knew this was true. Xena was just a pirate, no matter her motives now. She had loyalty to no nation, only to what she thought was right, and a limited skill set: sailing and fighting.

For years she’d sailed in Ching Shih’s fleet, been happy enough to take her orders, even been proud to serve with a woman with such a fearsome reputation. But now that Xena had left Ching Shih’s protection and she was down to one ship and a life that boiled down to sail, get food, sail again. It had been enough for her before she’d rescued Gabrielle and Gabrielle had signed on. She’d been new to sailing and here she was now, standing at the helm, not even flinching when a crewmember threw a bucket of salt water over the deck to clear the blood before it could dry.

Now her life seemed a little reckless.

The south seas were big, but but not infinite, and some days she could feel the hot breath of their enemies on the back of her neck. They were being pursued by the fleets of three nations, after all. 

Gabrielle seemed unphased by Xena’s worries, not moving her eyes from the horizon as she nudged the wheel to help lean into the wind. “Why is this always about me?  _ You  _ could have died today. Might have died without me here.” That was undeniably true. Gabrielle had repelled some British boarders -- the easiest of their enemies to overcome since they were slaves in all but name, but still, getting boarded at all was a bad sign. She stepped away from the helm, satisfied with their direction. 

Or maybe she just wanted to free her attention to glare at Xena expectantly.  “You know, Xena, your life doesn’t count for less than mine.” Xena opened her mouth to argue --  _ and say what, exactly?  _ \-- but Gabrielle squinted her eyes a little bit more and Xena snapped her mouth shut, wry. 

Xena felt the argument slipping away from her.

\-- _ Macedonia, 1940 -- _

Janice spun her fedora in her hands before pushing it back onto her head. Her blonde hair still caught the glint of the sun as she picked up her 6-shooter and her whip. “And if you hadn’t noticed? It was my idea to come here.” Maybe it was Janice’s idea to come here, but it was Mel’s research that led them to this dig, their pursuit of artifacts mixed with well, just a general dislike of those Nazis. Janice wasn’t done talking though. “You know we wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t wanted to go.”

“You don’t get to take all the responsibility here.” Mel pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, annoyed.

Janice cocked her hip. “Then neither do you.” 

Mel opened and closed her mouth for a second. “You’re using my argument against me.” Of all the sneaky things to do! Mel tried to bring her thoughts together, but Janice was relentless when she felt she was winning, just like always.

“I won’t let you take this all on yourself, like you always do. We’re tangled together, you and I. Always will be. I know sometimes it takes you a while to learn something --”

“Hey!”

\-- _ The beginning -- _

“--so I’ll keep explaining this to you, for as long as it takes.” And she leaned in, heedless of any remaining danger, and pulled Xena in for a kiss so passionate, so infused with the weight of the history between them, that Xena didn’t think it could ever be topped, not in all the turns of the earth.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I did try for a second to figure out when Xena is 'set' but that way lies madness.
> 
> Time period notes:  
> \- poetry was a big deal in the pre-islamic arabian peninsula, with poets engaging in what were basically rap battles in advance of fighting. Wars were apparently ended by especially good verse  
> \- there were female poets, and I took the line 'no person, however safe in life, escapes the tomb' from Laila Akhyaliyya who lived a couple hundred years after this was set  
> \- Queen Mahendradatta's story would have made an excellent Xena episode, complete with supernatural elements and accusations of witchcraft  
> \- The Cascadia quake of 1700 was the last time that fault went and it could happen again ANY MINUTE and it freaks me out, but anyway it was memorialised in the oral history of many First Nations'  
> \- I couldn't skip including the pirate queen, I'm weak  
> \- Mel and Janice are canon reincarnations of Xena and Gabrielle from the amazing S2 Episode the Xena Scrolls  
> \- I left off the 90s reincarnation where Gabrielle is a past life therapist, but I like to imagine that in the context of this story she gets that reincarnation to try and finally end this argument
> 
> Did I miss a time period you love? Let me know!
> 
> Comments are adored.


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